Paramount Global owns the Star Trek franchise. This is a piece of fan fiction based on Star Trek the Next Generation characters.
Bigger fish to fry
Data was standing looking out the window of Counselor Troi’s office. For the first time, he felt the emptiness and coldness of space. The twinkling of the stars held little warmth or comfort for him. The deeper he stared; the more this feeling sunk into him. It was an emptiness that was hollow and lifeless.
Counselor Troi had taken great pains to make it comfortable for anyone who might come to talk to her. She walked in from a side room. “Data have a seat?” She smiled as she waved him to a chair.
“I prefer not.” He didn’t even look in her direction.
“Why are you here?” She asked as she sat in a chair opposite of a couch where she hoped he would sit.
“Captain’s orders.”
“What do you want to talk about?”
“I do not wish to talk.”
“To me?”
“To you or anyone.”
She wasn’t quite sure how to proceed. She had worked with a lot of different cultures over her career. Usually Data wanted to talk about these matters so that he could understand them better. “Are you upset with the Captain for making you come talk to me?”
“No.”
Okay, she thought. “Please come sit down.” She kept her voice calm and pleasant.
He did so; after he sat down, he stared directly at her. “That’s uncomfortable, Data.”
“Why?”
“This isn’t about me, this is about you.”
He sat back on the couch, crossed a leg and his arms, before blankly asking, “what do you want to know?”
“Well, let’s start with how you feel today?”
“At this moment, I am annoyed.”
“About?”
“I do not wish to be here. You cannot help me.”
“We haven’t even tried yet.”
“What is the point in trying? I am not the one who needs help.”
“During the past two weeks you have been expressing characteristics that are not normal behavior for you. I don’t believe it’s merely a glitch in your emotion chip.”
“What do you think my malfunction is?” He hissed.
“You have to have a malfunction first.”
“Really?”
“Data, you are not making this easy.” She sighed.
“If you want to evaluate someone, psychoanalyze Westerfieled.”
Deanna stopped breathing, “Why?” It was impossible for Data to know how she felt about him.
“Breathe Counselor,” Data encouraged.
Her eyes got as large as quarters. “Data?” She slid back into her chair.
“Do not concern yourself with me. You are going to have more important issues to deal with in about two weeks. The closer we get to where we are going, the more problems you are going to have out of the crew.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I am not telepathic. I am observant. I know you get cold chills down your spine when Westerfield looks at you. I know you got sick after you escorted him to his quarters. I know he made advances towards you. I KNOW Westerfield.”
“Data, I’ve never told anyone those things.”
“You don’t have to tell me. I know the bastard.”
“I don’t understand.”
“The less you know the better you are. You will understand soon enough.” He got up. “Unlike your species, your secret is safe with me.” At the door he turned to Deanna, “if you would take a little advice, until Westerfield is off this ship, wear your regulation uniform.”
Deanna, whose purpose it was to get Data to open up to her, didn’t like the results of this conversation. She was more confused now than ever. Just a little bit shaken, Data was truly changing.


